Chapter 2 Unexpected Guest
“Bertha, take Mrs. Pruitt upstairs,” Winford said.
His words calmed Ophelia’s nerves.
Then in her excitement, she rushed forward and gave him a brief hug. “I’ll take good care of you,” she said seriously.
It was the closest she had been to him since they first met.
Her face flushed as his scent and warmth registered. She quickly pulled away.
She hurried off, her face burning even after she reached upstairs.
Regret set in quickly—Winford was a germaphobe and hated being touched. She started worrying he might resent her for it.
Winford froze for a moment, trying to process her words.
The warmth of her touch lingered against his chest. His expression changed slightly, as though something about her caught him off guard.
No one had ever said things like that to him.
Graham noticed the look on Winford’s face.
He couldn’t help but think, “Mr. Winford isn’t upset? That’s weird. The last time Ms. Lara Gomez tried to hug him, he looked grim and lashed out at her.”
Bertha Sherman, the housekeeper, led Ophelia down the corridor.
Ophelia could tell she didn’t like her.
They stopped in front of a door. “This one?” Ophelia asked in surprise.
In her past life, she had spent years in this house and knew every corner. This was just an ordinary guest room, far from Winford’s.
As his wife, she had expected something better.
Bertha kept her face stern. “You arrived without notice. We’ll need time to get a proper room ready. Please just use this one for now.”
That was a sound reason, and it wouldn’t be wise to challenge someone who had worked for the Pruitt family for years and earned their trust. So Ophelia walked it without a word of protest.
After unpacking, Ophelia decided to take a shower, only to discover that the water system wasn’t working. There was no hot water.
Bertha oversaw every detail of Sunset Vista. There was no way she didn’t know about this issue, yet she had put Ophelia in this room.
“Did she do this on purpose?” Ophelia muttered, her eyes narrowing.
She stepped out to find another room for a shower.
“A shower?” The maid Madeline Larson hesitated briefly before saying, “Alright, come with me.”
Then they came to a much larger room.
“Here you go. You can head in yourself,” Madeline said.
The room was well-decorated and luxurious, but its cold tones gave it an uninviting feel.
Ophelia’s eyes softened with nostalgia as she realized it was Winford’s room.
“Okay, you can get back to work,” she said casually, stepping inside. Then she added, “Oh, and bring me some clean clothes.”
Ophelia hadn’t packed clothes, planning to keep it light while running away with Cullen.
But she knew there were always spare clothes prepared for guests.
Downstairs, Bessie struggled to hide her excitement from the moment she stepped in.
Unlike other women who avoided Winford, she thought differently.
“He’s loaded and powerful. I wouldn’t mind marrying him, even if he doesn’t have much time left. Being his wife would come with so many perks,” she mused.
But the bitterness lingered. She didn’t see herself as less deserving than Ophelia. Both came from the same family, after all.
Ophelia’s mother had long passed away, and Bessie’s mother was now the lady of the house. It only seemed reasonable that the engagement should shift to Bessie instead.
“Now’s my chance. I’m going to be Winford’s wife. Ophelia’s such an idiot. A few words from me, and she ran off with Cullen,” she thought with a smirk.
“Mr. Winford, this is Ms. Bessie, Ophelia’s sister,” a servant said.
Bessie looked up, her confidence faltering as she saw him.
Her heart raced uncontrollably.
She had never seen anyone with such striking looks and presence.
Graham wheeled him closer, and Bessie hurried to her feet. “Hi, I’m Bessie,” she said, shy and nervous. There was a flicker of hope in her eyes at the idea of becoming his wife.
Winford noticed and asked with an indifferent expression, “What do you want?”
“I’m here to apologize for my sister,” she said, putting on a remorseful look. “She’s young and a bit gullible. She heard some rumors and got scared. That’s why she ran off.”
Upstairs, Ophelia finished her shower and realized Madeline hadn’t delivered any clothes.
With a slight frown, she opened Winford’s wardrobe, pulled out one of his robes, and put it on.
It was far too big for her and dragged on the floor. She adjusted it and tied it loosely at her waist.
As she walked out to find proper clothes, a familiar voice from downstairs caught her attention.
“I’m willing to marry you for my sister. Please don’t blame her or hold it against our family.”
Bessie sounded like the perfect, selfless sister.
Ophelia’s face darkened at her words.
Bessie stood straight and composed, her head high and her eyes slightly red. She waited confidently for Winford’s answer.
She believed she wasn’t any less than Ophelia. If Winford had accepted her sister, why wouldn’t he accept her now?
“Besides, Ophelia has run away with someone else,” she thought.
“Bessie, what are you doing here?”
Ophelia’s sweet voice suddenly came from the staircase.
Bessie’s eyes widened in shock, and she looked up.
When she saw Ophelia walking down the stairs, her face shifted, barely hiding her disbelief.
Winford snapped out of his thoughts about Bessie’s suggestion and also looked up. He was struck by how beautiful Ophelia looked at that moment.
Her damp hair was pinned back loosely, her skin glowed with a soft flush, and her eyes were sparkling and captivating.
Ophelia has always been pretty, but she had never held his attention like this.
Then his eyes fell on the robe.
Winford instantly recognized it, and his eyes narrowed with displeasure.
Nearby, Graham and the servants exchanged uneasy glances.
Winford was very territorial. He hated it when anyone touched his things or entered his room without permission. Ophelia had broken every rule right after she arrived.
